


The Quiet Scorches Still

by HSavinien



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Declarations Of Love, Devotion, Established Relationship, Immortal Husbands Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani is an Incurable Romantic, M/M, POV Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Podfic Available, Power of Words, references to violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:48:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26877697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HSavinien/pseuds/HSavinien
Summary: Joe is only talking to Nicky. Nicky is only standing there. And yet.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 12
Kudos: 164





	The Quiet Scorches Still

Nicky stands on stone, the cool of the slate making his toes curl even as a bead of sweat slides down the inside of his forearm from below his linen sleeve, following the vein. He doesn’t move. His eyes drift half-closed, but fix on Yusuf all the same, mouth curved in the tiniest smile. Niccolò is glorious in all things, but in stillness Joe can admire him at leisure.

“Here, my love, drink,” he says, offering the straw to Nicky’s lips. His mouth opens, accepts the straw, and Joe watches his throat work as he swallows. It is cool water, with a little mint crushed into it. “More?”

Nicky closes his eyes and Joe sets the cup aside.

“My gentle one,” Joe murmurs, “The watchful hawk circling above me, the shield at my back, the lightning bolt to strike my enemy.” He does not touch, but he’s close enough to see the shiver of skin on the back of Nicky’s neck, the flicker of his eyes beneath his lids.

“My killer,” Yusuf says, soft and amiable. Niccolò’s throat bobs, but he doesn’t flinch. It’s true and Yusuf accepted his penance for it long ago. “Half of my heart. My soul’s joy.” 

He traces the line of Nicky’s shirt collar with only the barest whisper of pressure, not touching skin. Nicky’s eyes drift back open, like he didn’t mean to open them at all, and the pale glint of them fix on Joe like he’s the only thing in the world. Yusuf found a stone once, the color of his eyes. Some kind of aqiq, blue and green and grey. He saved it to show Nicky, then died and lost it before he could, but he remembers the joy of finding it and seeing Nicky’s beauty reflecting back at him in nature. Joe trails his fingers down a fold in Nicky’s shirtsleeve until he reaches the cuff. 

“My patient, quiet man. Reassure me. Are you here with me still?”

“Sono qui,” Niccolò breathes, swallowing the sibilant like they’re on a stealth mission.

Joe touches him finally, catches a drip of sweat from Nicky’s wrist with a finger and brings it to his own mouth to taste.

Nicky chokes out a tiny puff of air and Joe watches him contain himself again.

“You put yourself away, my love, you fold yourself into the quiet and stillness. You turn yourself to stone and oh, how I love the sculpture you make.” Nicky’s a sniper, a marksman. He’s so very good at stilling himself, turning himself into a single focused gaze and two hands on a rifle. He loses himself in it. Joe enjoys admiring him like this, loves seeing his intensity from the vantage of spotter, but he also loves to pull him out of it, to welcome this statue of his love back to flesh and movement. 

Joe leans close, cheek near Nicky’s cheek, words stirring his hair. “Will you melt for me?” he asks. “Will you break your stillness for me?” With only a breath between their skin, he can feel the tremble in Nicky’s bones.

“Will you come down from the night to lie with me?” he asks. Joe steps back, far enough only to catch Nicky’s eyes again, scorching him now, and smiles, and holds out his hand.

Nicky’s breath shudders, shaking him free, and he lifts his hand slowly to place it in Joe’s, and then they are moving together, Nicky’s hand in Joe’s hair, clenching to the edge of pain, and Nicky’s mouth on his like a man gasping for air, and Nicky’s shoulders rolling beneath his hands as Nicky shoves him against the wall. Joe opens his mouth to him, offers him just enough resistance to make him groan and set his teeth into Joe’s lip, biting and urgent.

Joe loves  _ this, _ loves Nicky’s focus on him, his hands on him, his desperation, loves inspiring him to break himself out of stillness, fired by Joe’s tongue and Joe’s attention. Nicky’s quietude is no illusion, but he burns inside it and there’s none but Yusuf who can properly appreciate his fire. Nicky’s hands clutch tight, his thigh presses between Joe’s and Joe rides against him, enflamed and joyful and laughing as Nicky’s kiss breaks on a grin.

“There you are,” Joe tells him, then trades words for kissing again.  _ There you are. _

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic of] The Quiet Scorches Still](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28553361) by [Flowerparrish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flowerparrish/pseuds/Flowerparrish)




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